


Six of Crows - Short Stories and One Shots

by Gimmedafood



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Dark Academia, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-04-11 18:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19114981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmedafood/pseuds/Gimmedafood
Summary: A bunch of random stories from my imagination. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [SoC Tumblr Compilation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849204) by [wafflesandkruge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesandkruge/pseuds/wafflesandkruge). 



> Just a short one shot about Kanej’s first kiss. This is an expansion of a prompt by wafflesandkruge.

Track Meet

Tension was palpable in the crystal clear air of Makker Sports Facility just outside of Ketterdam.

It was quite possibly the only place with real grass and clean air in the polluted city. Kaz was down on the infield with Nina and Wylan, watching their friends compete in the final track meet of their junior year.

They were facing their rival school for the national title, and tensions were running high between both teams and their supporters.

Kaz has already broken some kids nose when he made comments about how Inej ‘used her body’ to get to the top.

They were currently watching the high jump, waiting for the final to wrap up so they could go watch Matthias dominate at Shot-put and Discus.

It was down to the last two, Jesper and another kid named Parr. They were both tall, Zemeni boys, but Jesper had about an inch on the other boy. Their bar was up to 5 feet and 10 inches, and it was their second jump.

Jesper went first, making it, but at the last moment clipping it with his heel. Kaz heard Wylan let out a tiny growl of frustration when the bar fell from it’s perch.

He smirked, leaning forward and digging the tip of his cane into the too-soft grass of the field.

Parr jumped, thwacking the bar with his hand as he went past, the sharp crack of bone on hard plastic made Nina wince like the aspiring Medik she was.

They moved to their third jump, this time Parr going first. He tapped the bar again, making it fall and making him let out a yell of frustration and punch his buddies offered high-five out of the air.

Kaz caught the kid who’d been punched rubbing the place he’d been hit and glaring unhappily at Parr.

They watched as Jesper jumped again, his loping strides carrying him to the mark with the ease of a giant gazelle. He jumped, his wiry body racing through the chilly mid-morning air gracefully.

Beside him, Wylan and Nina clutched each other with barely contained excitement. Kaz merely smirked, his grin making the other people looking at him edge away.

He could see from his position the path Jesper’s body would take over the bar, and there was no way he would hit it this time. He’d made the right correction to get him over with the win.

He cleared the bar with inches between it and his body, landing in the soft mat head first. Wylan let out a gasp before clasping hands with Nina and smiling with happy relief as she jumped around and screamed with joy.

Jesper rolled himself off the mat, running over to their little group with the brightest grin on his face. Nina backed off a step while Jesper scooped Wylan into his arms and twirled around, laughing ecstatically.

Nina stood at his shoulder, a small smile on her face and her green eyes bright as she watched the two boys celebrate.

“They’re cute together, aren’t they?” She murmured to Kaz, who made a non-committal noise and nodded sharply.

He walked past Jesper, giving him an approving nod and saying, “When you’re ready, come to the Shot and Disc area, Matthias will be up soon, and I’m sure he would appreciated our support.”

Jesper nodded and offered his hand for a high five. Kaz slowly slapped his hand, and reluctantly gave him the fist bump he asked for after. He was really making great progress with his touch aversion, and it was mostly due to the determined efforts of a petite sprinter who was warming up and watching the Discus kids from her perch on top of the pole-vaulting shed.

They watched in silence as Matthias set a new record for discus; 245 feet, and won the shot-pit competition by six inches, easy.

Then they were all down to the track to watch the most anticipated event of the meet: the 500 meter sprint.

It was reigning national champion Dunyasha Lazareva’s senior year, and she hadn’t been beaten in the 500 meter sprint for three years, always beating out Inej by at most, three tenths of a second.

It infuriated Kaz and her, and they usually had to take a day off of school to cool down. Nina had suggested this practice when Kaz had assaulted and expelled a student that had purposely tripped Inej at practice and broken her ankle.

Kaz sent the others ahead, sending them to wait at finish line while he had a private moment with Inej. He stood next to he starting blocks as she appeared next to him. 

They stood quietly, relaxing in each other’s company as Inej shook out her limbs for the final time.

He reached out, offering his hand if she wanted it. She grasped it, her small fingers slipping between his and holding tight.

He could feel her vibrating with nerves and adrenaline, but she kept her face impassive and calm, her mask firmly in place. She let go of his hand, shooing off to the side of the start line.

Before he went, he bent down to her ear and whispered quietly, his words only meant for her to hear.

“You will win, today. I promise. No mourners.”

“No funerals.” She breathed back, settling her breathing into her start rhythm and giving him a brief hug.

He limped to the edge of the track, standing next to her starting blocks. The man in the announcers box shushed the crowd, the sudden silence only broken by the cawing of the jay-birds who’s nest lay in the trees nearby.

“Runners, take your marks.”

The announcers magnified voice echoed through the stadium, and the final heat of the final round of the 500 meter sprint stepped up to their blocks.

“Get set.”

Kaz watched with attention of a bird of prey as Inej stepped into her starting blocks. Her movements were relaxed, precise, but charged with the energy that she would fly out of the blocks with.

The starting gun shot off, and they were off, three runners in a heat of five, exploding into the lead.

One, with the whitest blonde hair you could imagine looked to be slightly in front of the other two, one with russet hair, and the other with inky black.

Kaz started his limping path down to the finish line, his dark eyes tracking the runners as they settled into their distance sprint pace. Inej has settled into the perfect place behind Dunyasha, firmly in second where she could draft off of Dunyasha’s slipstream.

As they round the bend to the final hundred meters, Kaz takes his place at the finish line, right next to the cameras. 

Inej has kicked into her sprint pace, and she and Dunyasha are neck and neck as they bear down on the white line painted on the rubber.

Kaz starts to move, walking to the place he knows Inej will collapse after her race, still watching as they battle it out, leap-frogging between which one of them is first.

Then suddenly, they cross the line, looking to the entire audience a tie, and a spectacular one at that. 

Inej trips, her small body somersaulting through the air and tumbling to a stop a few feet away from Kaz. People in the stands gasp, because it looks likes she fell and injured herself.

She lays there, out of breath and tired beyond measure as she catches her breath. Her muscles refuse to let her get herself off of the ground, so she waits.

Kaz limps over to her, hooking his arms under hers and heaving her to her feet, his knee giving an unpleasant crack at the sudden extra weight. Inej swats at his hands weakly, too tired to do much more than lean on Kaz and breathe.

Her coach came screaming over to them at that moment, and Kaz felt Inej tense, not really prepared for the intensity of her coach.

Her coach talks to her for a brief minute before their friends swarm around them, and Inej pulls out of Kaz’s embrace. They’re still a bit uncomfortable with showing their relationship in public.

The call was under review, because Dunyasha had been so close to Inej at the finish line that it was impossible to tell who had crossed the line first.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

Inej.

She slipped her hand into Kaz’s, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently, her nerves making her uncharacteristically shaky.

She could feel the light brush of Kaz’s thumb across her knuckles, which usually soothed her nerves, but this time, she was buzzing with too much adrenaline to calm down.

She bit down on her lip, leaving white marks where her teeth rested as she chewed anxiously on her soft lips.

Kaz looked down on her, squeezing her hand gently as they waited. She squeezed back, looking up at him with a nervous smile.

His bitter eyes softened at her look, and her took his other hand and tucked a price of her hair that had fallen from her braid out of her face.

“Alright!” 

They heard the announcer speak up again, and Inej’s nerves increased threefold, making her squeeze Kaz’s hand even harder and shake with anticipation of the verdict.

“Looks like we have the results of the Ladies 500 meter sprint.”

Kaz’s grip tightened imperceptibly on the head of his cane, and he shifted his weight closer to Inej, taking the pressure off of his bad leg.

“And the winner is...”

Inej could feel the waves of anticipation and adrenaline pulsing off of her and Kaz, but she couldn’t focus on that. Her eyes stared at nothing, her ears perked for the voice of the announcer.

“...Inej Ghafa!”

She feels her eyes widen, and suddenly it feels like she isn’t in her own body anymore. 

All she sees is white for a quick moment, and when the world rushes back to her, she’s on her tiptoes, her lips pressed against Kaz’s.

It was all chapped lips and and the tang of bitter that was so distinctly Kaz. And there was that taste of crazy-mad-up-the-wall-and-all-those-shapes love and if tastes could be heard that was the loudest one of them all.

He pushed against her urgently, and she let her hand snake around the back of his neck, holding herself tightly to him as she kissed him.

Neither of them payed any attention to their friends, who were hooting and cat-calling from behind them.

They even disregarded Inej’s coach screaming at them for indecency and the shocked looks of Kaz’s enemies when they saw the hard, broken boy kissing the angel, the track star.


	2. Walther PPQ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, characters are slightly OC to fit the storyline, sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language, and darker themes, if you do not like them, then why are you reading Six of Crows?

Walther PPQ

**2020**

Kaz put his hands flat on the cold steel table in front of him, the pinchingly tight steel clinking with his minute movement. His eyes were dark, black and dead like a shark’s.

He didn’t look bothered by the dull grey, concrete room he was sitting in, his hands cuffed to a solid steel table. He didn’t appear bothered by the white light directed at his face, or the clever eyes of multiple officials watching through the plexiglass window on his left.

He looked numb, not content but not discontent either, relaxed as if he had nothing to lose, and he didn’t, not really.

He had 29 hours left until he was dead, and the ticking of the flat clock on the wall reminded him of it, constantly. He knew what to expect, and if this was the ending he got, well it was more than he deserved.

_Click, click, click, click, clack._

He had only one regret, and even it was a fake one. It was the reason he wasn’t afraid to die. He knew he wasn’t going to die. They were going to do this to him no matter what, and they just took away the effort of him thinking about it.

His plan had been to shoot himself, and it only seemed fitting considering what he’d done. He’d never considered he’d receive a death penalty, and he should’ve.

“You know why you are here today, Mr. Brekker.” The agent in front of him stated. He didn’t ask, it would’ve been unnecessary. Of course he knew why he was handcuffed to a fucking table.

“I killed thirteen people.” He answers his voice matching the agent’s, flat, cold and rigid. Agent Carter perhaps, he wasn’t sure what the other mans name was. He was sure it had started with a ‘C’ but he couldn’t be bothered to remember.

“Fourteen. You killed fourteen people, Mr. Brekker.” The agent watched him intently, brows furrowed in concentration.

He always said thirteen, never acknowledged the final death, the one that had landed him in prison.

Inej Ghafa, a young lady in love with a psychopath, a serial killer, she was destined to die from the beginning.

“I didn’t kill her!” Kaz rasped loudly, slamming his fists onto the metal table in front of him, taking no regard to his limited range of motion.

His fury surrounded his form like smoke, thick and cloying. Agent Carter’s eye twitched, he had struck a nerve.

_Good._

“Really?” He started. “So it wasn’t your hand wrapped around her throat? It wasn’t you who laughed as her blood soaked your clothes?”

Kaz shook his head rapidly, closing his eyes and wishing the images from his night terrors would go away. She was his one regret, and even she was fake.

The fourteenth person he’d actually killed had been some unfortunate person who’d managed to piss him off at the grocery store, while he was shopping in incognito for their small house.

When he’d first seen her, he pulled a double take, she looked remarkably like Inej, not close enough to be related, but close.

Their families were one and the same, a family of known killers and psychopaths, and one of mysterious origin, who also happened to be psychotic, but much better at hiding it.

The lady had cut in front of him in line, snubbed him for being crippled, and made a rude comment about his unorthodox hairstyle and piercings.

He’d followed her home, staking her out before going home and planning with Inej.

It was his hands around her neck, squeezing her throat and shaking in anger while her blood seeped into his clothing. She’d been shot before, but he wanted a reaction, a sign that she wasn’t dead.

At the time, he’d mistaken her for Inej, his rage clouding his mind. He cradled her body in his arms, kneeling lifelessly as the Staadwatch arrived. He never got the sign he was looking for, her lack of breathing and nonexistent heartbeat a clear indication.

“ _I love you.” She told him, eyes shining brightly as she looked up at him adoringly._

_He held her in his arms, hands wrapped around her waist gently but firmly. She was his and he needed her, he needed her so much and he hated her for it almost as much as he loved her. She was bright to his darkness, his shadow threatening to take over but never coming close to the shield she provided for him. It was like it was afraid of the overpowering radiance that was his girlfriend._

_She was his everything, his priority. She was where his universe started and where it would end._

_“I love you more.” He meant it_.

Kaz opened his eyes, an exhausted tear slipping down his cheek. He looked up at Carter, death barely hidden behind his bitter coffee eyes. The agent pursed his lips, a shiver slipping down his spine involuntarily.

“She was my everything.” Kaz told him, voice strong but quiet, not a whisper, not trembling like the agent had expected. No, this wasn’t a question, it was a fact and he had no doubt about it.

Agent Carter wasn’t scared of much, but the look in Kaz’s eyes at the mention of Inej terrified him, and he wondered if this was how his victims felt before he murdered them.

“She’s dead and it’s all my fault, I won’t deny that. If it weren’t for me, she would still be here. She wanted to be an acrobat, and she would’ve been a damn good one.” Kaz continued, a small smile breaking out across his face.

His head snapped up suddenly, laughing almost bitterly, and if Carter thought his anger was terrifying, it was nothing compared to his smile.

It wasn’t so much filled with venom or sinister, it was horrifying because it was _real_ , almost innocent in a sense.

It was full of love.

It was the first time Agent Carter had seen him smile or heard him laugh, he could almost hear the gasps his colleagues let out from behind the window.

It was a disconcerting sight, a serial killer smiling to himself without any hint of malice, but saturated with the fondness he harbored for the one he loved.

A girl who stood amongst them on a daily basis, a girl who’d ‘transferred’ to his case the day he’d been brought in. A girl who had, unbeknownst to them, assisted him in not one, but seven other murders.

Agent Carter stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the concrete floor with an unpleasant grind, startling Kaz out of his head. “I think that’s enough for now, let’s take a break. I’ll see you in an hour, Mr. Brekker.” He said before quickly walking out of the room, desperate for some air.

Kaz nodded, waiting patiently as a petite, ebony haired officer came to take him away. She uncuffed him from the table, loosening his cuffs so he could slip his hands out anytime.

She took him through the building, finally looking him in the eye with a devilish smirk painted across her innocent looking face.

He met her eyes, his own smirk growing. Their eyes connected, their love and passion for each other flowing between them in a charged glimmer.

“Ready?” The officer asked, slipping his cuffs off his wrists and hooking them to her belt. She took a hold of his arm, guiding him out of the poorly secured jail and into one of the cars parked around the station, her black SSC Tuatara.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, baby.” He said, throwing his head back and laughing devilishly.

The officer winked at him, black hair curling around her sparkling eyes. “Nevada looks nice, doesn’t it?”

Kaz nodded, looking down as she passed him a small black pistol. His favorite, a custom Walther PPQ.

She started the car, the engine humming to life almost silently, and pointed to the corner of the jail, where a red flag peeped out from the wall.

“That’s your target as soon as we are moving, okay?” She said, swiping her card so the gate would open, and pulling forward so he was in position. Kas pulled the pistol the his firing position, letting off one round, his silencer keeping them safe for a few more minutes.

His bullet struck the tag dead center, setting off the fuse and burning into the walls.

They’d laid their elaborate plan a few days ago, the fuse would release a poison gas that would kill everyone in the building except the three officers who’d picked Kaz up in the first place.

It would allow the officers five minutes to get out before the building blew up, letting them glimpse the pain of failure and allowing Kaz the sweet, sweet taste of revenge.

The officer stepped on the gas hard, drifting out of the parking lot and roaring down the empty highway at 345 miles per hour.

She pulled her car up on a bluff a good distance away, pulling to a stop and looking back at the soon-to-be-wreckage jail.

Inej kissed him as they watched it explode, her plan worked. Dead men tell no lies, but she wasn’t a man, nor was she dead.

Kaz was a psychopath, but he was her psychopath and she would kill for him, had already killed for him.

She handed him something, the soft look on their faces contradicting the number of murderous weapons scattered across her car.

He looked down, seeing her hand clasped over the hilt of his custom cane.

They were ready for their next deadly adventure, and this time, they would not get caught again.


	3. Kaz Brekker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A description of the Bastard of the Barrel from Inej.

His name roars through every nook and cranny, every street in the god-forsaken city of bastards. Ketterdam. And his name, his name is stolen, just as much as anything he might have acquired over the years. All who say his name, who dare speak it with contempt or scorn, make it as inconsequential as a butterfly, will perish.

 

When he makes a lethal wish, dropping a silver piece into the well of nightmares. One should not dare to look over the edge, for the demon eyes of death itself glow through the black of the well, through the black of a smog-choked night.

 

The wish  _will_  be heard,  _will_  be answered, leaving the victims of gross immoral extravagancy, of cruel and unjust practice, to suffer the wrath of  _**him**_ , aided by the devil incarnates.

 

His icy cold hand, cased in a thin black glove, coils around your neck, each finger a bar of choking steel. You struggle, unknowingly drawing in your last breath as his mind lures you to your demise. You can feel the tendrils of creeping guilt, the guilt he paints through your head about who you’ve wronged.

 

He, by all accounts, is the most immoral and soulless man in all of the world. He’d have you believe he was born and raised a street rat, Bastard of the Barrel through and through. But beneath the calculating brilliance, the leather gloves that hide pure skin, beneath the ice of his devil eyes, there is a promise, an purpose for redemption.

 

‘ ~~_Brick_ _by_ _brick_.~~’

 

This is the rumor you’re told, the image the Dregs instilled in your mind, a day after he became ‘human’ for one afternoon and freed you from your shackles, letting you spread your blindingly pure wings for one glorious evening. 

 

~~_ “Welcome to Ketterdam, Inej.” _ ~~

 

The city where you have a 30 percent chance of making it out alive. With each feather soft step you take, you fall, deeper into  _his_ city,  _his_ empire. You feel like you’ve lived there your entire life, even if you’ve been there for two years, trapped in the same building with no escape, no chance to spread your wings and become yourself.

 

The further you get into his grasp, the lighter your knives get, the easier it becomes to  be  the city, to take its faults and make them your strengths. Each step you take, the further you go in his maze, the heavier your wings feel, the chains of guilt, of remorse, hatred, sorrow, fear,  **_failure_** , feel, draping across your shoulders and dragging down the rooftops behind you.

 

They tell you this is normal. This what everyone feels like in Ketterdam. Either you feel like this, or you become one with the city, one with  _him_.  A monstrous, inhuman  _creature_ ,  slowly creeping through the cracks in a targets mind, waiting for them to sleep before attacking their dreams, shredding them and twisting them, turning them into nightmares you can only think about to shiver with fear. 

 

The only monster you must fear in this city of monsters, is the monster with the longest claws, the sharpest teeth. The only monster that you must fear is the one that can call Death to its side, who can bring an empire crumbling down with a flick of its claw.

 

_~~ ‘Brick by brick.’ ~~ _

 

That’s all it takes to end an empire. That’s all it takes to end the lives of countless people, all the bricks holding his target from him. 

 

A period. That’s all it takes to end a life, to end a sentence. It’s just a period. With him, it twists, becoming more than just a humble period. A period is the start of a sentence as well as the end. Confused? You aren’t the only one. He is all period beginnings, and period endings.

 

It’s his way of saying:  ‘ _I understand you. I know you_.’  But you do not understand him.

 

_ Kaz Brekker. Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. Demjin. _

 

_And to you, Kaz Rietveld_. 

 

**_Inej Ghafa. Wraith. Little Lynx. Captain. Shadow Dancer._ **

 

_**To him, an investment, his spider turned captain. His Wraith**_.

 

~~ _Together, you are the royalty in this broken city._ ~~

 

~~ _King and Queen of the Barrel._ ~~


End file.
